


People Change

by tenaya



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1988-03-01
Updated: 1988-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenaya/pseuds/tenaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A surprising enemy attacks Vila and Tarrant.  Will the rest of the crew survive to come to their rescue?</p>
            </blockquote>





	People Change

# PEOPLE CHANGE

  


## by Tenaya

The SCORPIO swung into a graceful orbit around the neutral and sparsely populated planet of Anso. On board, Tarrant stood up from the pilot's chair and walked over to the teleport. He checked the clip–gun he wore on his hip. Satisfied of its charge, he replaced it in the holster. He turned to Vila, who sat at the teleport controls.

"This meeting shouldn't take me any longer than one hour, if our information is reliable. Try to stay awake, Vila. I may need a fast pickup."

"All right, all right. I'll be ready. I mean, it isn't like I've got anything better to do, is it?" Vila grumbled.

"That's never seemed to stop you before."

Vila grimaced. "Teleporting now."

As Tarrant's body was disassembled into pure energy, Vila allowed himself a small wish: that Tarrant would materialize standing in a puddle. He settled back in his chair, searching for the almost–comfortable position he had found on other occasions. His mind began to wander over events that had led him and Tarrant to this mission. Dr. Plaxton's photonic drive had fortunately worked immediately upon installation — a fact that had saved the crew, but cost Plaxton her life. Vila frowned at the memory of that moment. It was too bad about her, but she was doomed in either case. What had bothered the thief the most was Avon's eerie, "Who?" afterwards. It wasn't like the computer tech to shrug off something like that with a flippant remark. Avon had always accepted the responsibility of his actions. What he had done had been practical and necessary, and if Vila was truthful with himself, he knew that everyone else on board would have made the exact same decision, himself included. The thing to do was to acknowledge it and go on with living. Vila sighed. Perhaps he was being too picky about it. Life hadn't been easy on any of them for quite some time now.

Vila touched a panel and examined the readout on the drive's function. Doctor Plaxton's device had proven to be as fast as they could wish for, but the SCORPIO's console would need adapting if they wanted a fine control on the drive. And that is what they were here for. Through Orac, Avon had been able to locate the needed parts from a company that specialized in acquiring technical gear. The meeting had been arranged on Anso for security reasons. It was really a glorified shopping trip and Vila had been elected to go with Tarrant to keep him company.

The thief shifted his position slightly, and reflected that the tall pilot had grown a little more tolerable since he had lost his brother. Vila thought of Deeta and was sad. He had been inside Deeta's head and had shared his death for a horrific instant. He had discovered he liked Deeta; liked him quite a bit more than Tarrant.

The thief sighed again and settled in for the long wait.

* * * * *

Tarrant materialized at the agreed on coordinates and quickly scanned the small valley he was in. He stood in the center of a grassy field, surrounded by tall, fully leafed trees. A man stood twenty meters away, facing the opposite direction, his clothes obscured by a loose outer garment.

Tarrant slowly approached the lone figure, noting a box full of the equipment he had come for on the ground next to the man.

"My name is Del Tarrant," the tall pilot said in the way of greeting.

The other man turned, and Tarrant stood open–mouthed as he confronted a face that was the image of his own.

"Strange," said the man. "I can say that, too."

Tarrant heard the high–pitched whine of a stun gun as he collapsed into a numb and helpless heap. When he was able to refocus his eyes, his antagonist was squatting beside him, smiling a brilliant, ruthless smile.

"How?" the pilot managed to croak out.

"Does the planet Sardos remind you of anything? I see that it does. You destroyed Moloch, but you neglected to do the same with the card that had your particle scan on it. Careless of you. A most delightful woman, Sleer, managed to put that information to good use as you can see. In return for my existence, all I have to do is kill you and the scum you travel with. Then I'll return to the delectable Sleer. She is a woman who will go far." The man made an adjustment to his weapon without looking at it and stood up. "I thought you should know why you are to die; to know the full bitterness of your defeat. Goodbye, Tarrant." He smiled cruelly as he fired the gun. Tarrant felt himself thrown back into the earth by the force of the shot, and then oblivion.

* * * * *

"Teleport now!" Tarrant's command was urgent and sent Vila scrambling for the controls. The tall man emerged from the chamber and set down his box of equipment.

"I see you got the stuff. Was there any trouble?"

Tarrant advanced on Vila saying, "Not for me."

"Eh?" the thief said, puzzled. He began to back away from the taller man, sensing trouble. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that you've given me nothing but problems since the day we met. I see no reason to allow that to go on," Tarrant menaced. He lunged and caught Vila by the arm.

"What did I do now?" Vila was frightened, desperately trying to understand what was happening.

"You exist." Tarrant's face was savage as he shifted his hold on the thief, hands now around his neck, squeezing with increasing pressure.

Vila tried to pry the pilot's iron–hard fingers from around his throat, but Tarrant's grip only tightened. He was desperate to breathe and he clawed at the pilot's face. The larger man simply moved his head out of reach. Terrified and frantic, Vila brought his knee up in a vicious blow to the tall man's groin. Tarrant doubled over, but his grip on the thief held. Vila struggled and they both fell over.

"You little bastard! You'll pay for that," the pilot gasped, enraged. Tarrant rolled up on his knees, straddled the thief and began to beat at the smaller man's stomach and face with his fists. As dazed as he was, Vila managed to ward off the first few blows, but was unable to keep it up. He lay there, finally, unprotected, as Tarrant struck him repeatedly.

Slowly, through a haze of pain, the thief became aware that he wasn't being beaten anymore. He felt the fastenings of his trousers being undone, and then the garment was being tugged down his legs. He was flipped over on his stomach. A heavy weight covered him and hard hands gripped his shoulders. It was with disbelief that he felt the sharp pain of Tarrant's entry. He cried out and was rewarded with a savage thrust. He held back further yelps of pain as the tall pilot pumped in and out, hands now around the thief's neck, holding him immobile against the assault. With a final fierce contraction, Tarrant ejaculated into the smaller man. Vila felt warm breath by his ear and heard the pilot whisper, "That will be the last thing you experience in your lifetime, runt."

Vila twisted his head to the side in time to see Tarrant deliver a swift karate shop to his neck. Mercifully, he felt nothing after that.

* * * * *

Tarrant withdrew, stood up and gazed around the unfamiliar flight deck. "Just as she said it would be, a Wanderer Class Planet Hopper Mark 2 with modifications," he muttered to himself. "Only the main deck pressurized. Convenient, but cramped. Computer! Identify yourself!" he ordered to the room at large.

++Yes, sir. I am Slave, sir. I am unworthy to serve you, sir,++ the machine groveled.

"That is true, but we will have to make do, won't we?" Tarrant stated arrogantly. He glanced down at the still form at his feet. "That's another thing I've never liked about you, Vila — you never pick up after yourself." The tall pilot grabbed the thief by the back of his jacket and hauled him into the teleport alcove, where he dumped him. He took off his own teleport bracelet and fastened it onto Vila's wrist.

Tarrant stepped back to the controls, studied them and then pushed a button, saying, "Let's see what this one does."

Vila's unconscious form dissolved from sight. Tarrant chuckled. "And on the first try, too." He looked about one last time, then ordered, "Slave, take us home to the base at best possible speed."

++Yes, sir. At once, sir.++

Tarrant swaggered over to a chair and sat down. Smugly, he gloated. "Two down, three to go."

* * * * *

Down on the planet, Tarrant groaned. He had a massive headache, and any time he tried to move, his head felt like it would explode. He decided to lay quietly for a bit, though the idea of the exploded head had its attraction — at least it wouldn't hurt anymore. Images swirled and flashed through his mind. Suddenly, he remembered. There was another Tarrant!

He brought up his chronometer to where he could see the time. Only one hour had passed since he had teleported down. He brought up his other arm and noticed that his bracelet was missing. Damned inconvenient, but expected. He rolled over on to his stomach, rested, then pushed himself up on his hands and knees. Wobbly, he peered about through squinted eyes at the sunny and peaceful valley. There was no sign of the other Tarrant and he didn't know whether to be grateful or upset. There was something a little further down the slope, though. He thought briefly about standing, but his stomach churned at the thought. He decided on a slow, but safe, crawl.

He was ten yards away when he recognized Vila's clothes. Tarrant quickened his pace. As he drew closer, he noticed that Vila was unnaturally still and that the thief's trousers were down about his knees. A ball of ice formed in the pilot's middle. "No…." he groaned in protest and fear.

Finally, he was at Vila's side. He gently turned him over on his back. Tarrant's stomach did yet another slow roll at the sight of the thief's swollen and bruised face. Swallowing hard, he felt at Vila's wrist for a heartbeat. He breathed in relief at the strong and steady pulse.

"Vila?" he said. "Vila!"

There was no response from the thief.

The pilot leaned back on his heels and gazed searchingly over the wild landscape. They were completely alone. He could expect no help, for the nearest settlement was over 400 kilometers away.

He looked back down at the thief and wondered about his injuries. It was obvious that he had been severely beaten and raped. "And probably by that other one. You'll think I did it, won't you?" he asked of the unconscious man. "That is, you will if you survive. And that is my responsibility right now — to see that we both survive." The pilot leaned forward and redressed Vila. Tarrant could feel his own strength returning as he channeled his thoughts toward the purpose of survival. He put his anger and hate on a back burner; that would have to wait until he caught up with the beast that had done this. And then he would make him pay with his life.

* * * * *

It was many hours after sunset when Vila finally started to come to. He was lying on a pile of sweet smelling grasses, a medium–sized campfire was crackling nearby, but all that he was aware of was that he hurt all over. He groaned. A hand gently lifted his head while a soggy cloth was put to his lips. The moisture trickled in, and with some difficulty, he managed to swallow it.

"How are you feeling?" asked Tarrant with concern.

Vila's eyes flew open as he recognized the voice. His body tense, he looked up fearfully into Tarrant's face.

The pilot carefully set the smaller man's head down on the grassy cushion. "Steady on, Vila. You're safe now. He's gone." When the thief did not relax, Tarrant decided to address the problem directly. "Vila, it wasn't me. I did not do this to you. It was a duplicate of me made by way of the particle scan on Sardos. He was down here on the planet waiting for me when I teleported. He shot me with some sort of stun gun and must have taken my bracelet and went up to the ship. He told me that Servalan was behind this, that he was going to kill us all." He hesitated, trying to judge Vila's reaction. "I don't know why I'm still alive, perhaps he made a mistake or he thought I would not last long down here. I think you're supposed to be dead, though — you've a lump on the back of your neck the size of an egg."

Vila looked warily at the pilot and said, "You hit me there after you…." his voice trailed off.

"Vila, I wouldn't do that to you."

"Why not? You've pushed me around, threatened to toss me out an airlock and pulled a gun on me. Rape doesn't sound that far–off from the others." The thief's tone was bitter. "Besides, if there was a duplicate made from a particle scan, it would be an exact duplicate, another you. You did this to me."

"Vila. He is different. Maybe the scan changed him, or maybe he's an exaggeration of what I was feeling when they took the scan of me. I was angry with you and with everyone up on LIBERATOR at the time." Tarrant looked down at his hands. "I don't know why he's different, but he is. Besides, I wouldn't touch you like that, not after finding out about you and —" He stopped abruptly and glanced uncomfortably away from Vila.

The thief was stunned. "Finish it."

"I'm sorry, Vila. That slipped out." Tarrant was embarrassed. "I know about you and Avon." When the thief remained quiet, Tarrant continued. "I saw you two together, back at Xenon Base. That day I'd gone out with Dayna and Soolin to explore the surface, I went back for the binoculars and walked in on you two in the lounge. You were so involved with each other, you never even noticed me." He paused. "How long —"

"Soon after Gan died," Vila interrupted tonelessly.

Tarrant was startled. "I had no idea. You don't sound too happy about it, though."

"It is a mutually beneficial and satisfying relationship."

"That sounds like Avon talking."

Vila thought about the complex relationship he had with Avon and sighed. "I am happy with it, Tarrant. I care about him; let's just leave it at that. I've had one hell of a day, and now I find out that your double is on his way to try to kill Avon and the girls. I'm tired and I'm hurt and I'm scared."

"But not of me."

Vila stared up at him. "No. Not of you. I guess I believe you, Tarrant, though thousands wouldn't."

Tarrant smiled at the weak attempt at humor. It reassured him that the thief wasn't hurt that bad.

"Don't worry, Vila. He's failed to kill either of us; now he is up against the really dangerous ones. They'll be able to take care of him, and then they'll come to look for you. We can survive until then."

The thief looked uncertain.

"They'll come. Now go to sleep," Tarrant ordered.

Vila closed his eyes and was soon asleep.

Tarrant smiled again with relief. It looked like Vila would be all right and that he believed the pilot's story. Tarrant just hoped he was right about Avon and the girls being able to defeat this madman. He was not worried about whether Avon would come in search of Vila or not; what Tarrant had witnessed between them was true passion. Avon would come.

* * * * *

Dayna was on watch in the lounge when the sensors picked up the SCORPIO. She flicked open the communication channel, "Xenon base to SCORPIO; Xenon base to SCORPIO. Come in, Tarrant."

"Dayna, this is SCORPIO. Am I cleared for landing?"

"Slave is, but you're not!" she teased. "I've seen you make landings and Xenon can't survive an impact like that!"

"Very funny, Dayna. Now, if you don't mind?"

"All right, you're cleared to land. I'll meet you at the entry."

"Thank you, Dayna. I'm forever in your debt."

She grinned wickedly and said, "That sounds interesting. Out."

Dayna opened the abase comlink. "The weary travelers have returned," she announced. "Grab your tool kits, everyone." That done, she left to welcome her friends home.

* * * * *

Soolin was waiting by the security doors when they opened. Tarrant strode out confidently, but when he saw her, he seemed to hesitate. Odd, she thought to herself. She was about to say something when Avon and Dayna arrived.

"How did it go?" Avon asked.

"Smoother than I thought it would."

"Where's Vila?" Dayna asked, interrupting Avon's next question.

"He's sleeping. Said he was having a wonderful dream and he wanted to finish it."

"Oh, he did, did he?" the black girl grinned delightedly. "I think I'll just see about that!" She set off with glee past Tarrant.

"Avon," Tarrant said purposefully. "I need to talk with you in private about something important."

Avon eyed Dayna's retreating figure and sighed. "Very well." He turned and walked toward the lounge. "Make it quick, Tarrant. We need to get busy on those modifications."

They entered the lounge. "Oh, I will. After all, everyone desires a quick death." Tarrant's tone was deadly.

Avon froze, then turned slowly around, wariness apparent in his every move. "What are you playing at, Tarrant?" he hissed, his eyes on the gun the pilot had leveled at his chest.

"Playing. I like that. Life is a game and you just drew a losing hand." He raised the gun up a bit.

"What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm going to kill you, then Cally, Dayna and that blonde."

Avon's eyes narrowed. "Cally?"

"Yes. Where is she, Avon?"

"Who _are_ you?"

"Have I already given myself away? Too bad," he shrugged, not really that concerned. "Do you recall Sardos, Avon?"

Avon's expression dawned with realization. "The particle scan."

"Very good."

"I thought living beings couldn't be duplicated," the computer tech said, stalling for time.

"Not true. You just need a competent resuscitation team; something that Commssioner Sleer was able to collect."

"Servalan!"

"She likes to be called Sleer now," Tarrant reprimanded. "Between what happened on Helotrix and Caspar, she was able to piece together that all of you survived Terminal and have a new ship — equipped with a photonic drive. Not bad, Avon."

The computer expert caught sight of a faint movement behind Tarrant. He betrayed nothing. "What have you done with Tarrant and Vila?"

Tarrant feigned surprise. "I didn't expect you'd care enough to ask. Tarrant, I killed on the planet; shot him point blank. Vila, well, I had a bit of fun with him first." The pilot saw something change in Avon's face at that, so he enlarged on that part of the story. "I raped him, Avon, and when I was through, I killed him and teleported him down to the planet. Right now, he is providing dinner for whatever small carnivores that can stomach him."

Avon's face darkened with cold fury. Tarrant saw a look in the older man's eyes that no one had seen and lived to tell about. The pilot's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Down!" Soolin's voice knifed through the air, causing the distracted Tarrant to whirl toward her while Avon dropped into a crouch. She fired. The blast from her gun caught Tarrant cleanly through the heart.

She walked over to him in time to see his look of surprise fade into death. The cool blonde holstered her weapon as Avon joined her.

"Your arrival was most opportune, Soolin. Thank you," he said as he stared at the corpse.

She smiled. "Actually, I was already suspicious and had followed you here. I heard everything."

"You took your time letting me know you were there."

"It was such an interesting conversation, I just couldn't interrupt," she said drily.

"Of course" he said, a faint smile around his mouth. "You are very good, Soolin."

She made a small bow with her head. "Thank you."

Dayna burst into the room, gun drawn. She stopped short at the sight of Tarrant on the floor.

"No!" she cried in disbelief. "What…."

"That's not Tarrant, Dayna!" Avon forcefully interrupted.

She looked up in confusion at the computer expert. "I don't understand!" she wailed.

"That is the result of the replication device on Sardos." He waited for it to sink in. Continuing more gently, "This man is not Tarrant. He didn't know Cally is dead. He said he had killed Tarrant and Vila. Did you find any sign of them on the ship?"

She shook her head. "No…." Dayna was having a hard time assimilating all this. Her emotions were in turmoil.

"Get your gear and meet me at SCORPIO in five minutes."

"Back to Anso," Soolin said in agreement.

"Exactly! The teleport doesn't work on a corpse. Vila, at least, may still be alive!"

* * * * *

This was their second night on Anso, and Tarrant was musing that they were doing fairly well. Luckily, the other Tarrant had discarded his own weapon when he had confiscated the pilot's clip–gun. With it, Tarrant had been able to start the fires necessary to keep them warm at night and to cook the small animals he had  
shot during the day. When he closely examined the weapon, he had found the thing set on 'kill', but a slight warping of the metal had prevented the control from positively engaging. He owed his life to shoddy workmanship.

Tarrant added another branch to the fire as Vila moaned in his sleep. The thief lay curled on his side, nestled into the bed of grasses that Tarrant had made for him. He's probably having another nightmare, thought the pilot. He considered waking him, but then the thief quieted on his own. Tarrant scrutinized the sleeping man a little longer. Vila was breathing fast and shallow and his color was a bit pale. Tarrant suspected that the thief had a broken rib or two. Not that he could do anything about it, other than making Vila stay put and rest. And that is exactly what the pilot had insisted on. He had kept Vila in his line of sight all day, reluctant to leave him unprotected and on his own, but it was also the only way to be sure the thief stayed quiet and still.

Sighing, Tarrant shifted and stared into the campfire. He was tired and his thoughts began to drift into an area that he had actively avoided until now. What was bothering him was his declaration to Vila that he would never hurt him as that other Tarrant had. Perhaps that was true now, but what about in the past? He remembered the thrilling sense of power he'd had when he bullied Vila into going down to Keezarn. It had been exciting. On Sardos, he had been angry with the thief; angry that he would not submit to his authority and will like Vila always did with Avon. The thief would grumble, but he always did what Avon wanted. Perhaps, Tarrant admitted, he was jealous of the loyalty Avon inspired without even knowing or wanting it.

It was also disturbing to Tarrant that an exact copy of himself, only a few months younger, was capable of such viciousness. Could he have done that to Vila? He just didn't know. He was aware that there was something about Vila that seemed to bring out the worst in himself; something that made dominating the thief enjoyable.

Tarrant shook his head, as if to shake out those disturbing thoughts. He lifted his eyes toward the sparkling canopy that was the night sky and thought suddenly about Deeta. Deeta's death had affected him like nothing else in his lifetime had. It had touched his soul and stolen some of the arrogance and cockiness from him. Perhaps that was what made him different from his duplicate.

Still staring toward the heavens, the pilot muttered, "Come on, Avon. Just kill the bastard and come get us. I don't know how much more self–examination I can stand."

* * * * *

The SCORPIO swung back into orbit around Anso. On board, the atmosphere was one of restrained anxiety with Dayna openly fidgeting, much to the annoyance of Avon. Soolin appeared calm, but was not relaxed.

++Pardon me for the interruption, but we are now in geo–stationary orbit above your desired coordinates on the planet Anso, Master.++

"Slave, what are environmental conditions like at that position?" Avon snapped.

++I humbly apologize for my inadequacy, Master. It would appear to be 12 degrees Centigrade, no precipitation and approximately one hour prior to sunrise.++

The computer expert stared into space. "Now is as good a time as any." He stood and walked over to the teleport console where Orac sat silently. Fitting the key in, he commanded, "Orac, operate the teleport as instructed."

"I must protest this misuse of my abilities!" fussed the little computer. "This task is more suited to —"

"Shut up, Orac. Just do as you're told," interrupted Avon with irritation.

Orac's lights seemed to flash faster. "Very well!" it said frostily.

Avon turned to the teleport chamber. Standing expectantly inside were the two women; Soolin was carrying the first aid box and Dayna held two extra teleport bracelets. Both had their guns drawn.

Avon took his place beside them, saying, "Be ready for anything. Orac, teleport now."

* * * * *

The dawn was chill, misty and gray. The trio materialized into the still and silent clearing. They quickly scanned the area while protecting each other's back.

Dayna pointed into the woods and said very quietly, "There."

The others turned and noticed the faint curl of wood smoke in the air over the trees. Dayna, without waiting for approval, set of in a very careful stalk toward the woods. The others followed as quietly as they could.

It wasn't long until they had the small camp surrounded and were moving in on their unwary targets. It was with stunned surprised that they recognized their missing companions.

"They are alive!" Dayna was incredulous. Avon shot her an aggravated look as Tarrant's head snapped up in alarm. The tall pilot took in his situation at a glance. He tried to relax, but he couldn't help but notice Avon's and Soolin's guns did not vary from his direction. Dayna began to move toward him, her joy obvious.

"Get back, Dayna!" Avon's command stopped her in mid–stride. At her look of defiance, he continued. "Servalan made one copy; this," he snarled, "could be another. Try to wake up Vila, but be careful of him, too. We don't really know what went on down on Sardos."

Dayna grimaced at the computer expert's suspicions, but was, nevertheless, cautious as she approached the sleeping thief.

As she kneeled down beside Vila, Tarrant said, "I see you are your usual trusting self, Avon. I take it this means that you discovered the impostor before anyone was hurt?"

Soolin took a step forward. "I shot him. And I might very well do the same to you unless you can tell me my name."

Tarrant gave a tired smile. "Of course he wouldn't know you. You are Soolin, and if you have a last name, you've never told it to us."

She smiled prettily at him. "You passed the first test."

Keeping his gun trained on Tarrant, Avon moved sideways to stand nearer to Dayna. "What's wrong?" he asked her.

She frowned down at Vila. "He doesn't look too good. What has happened to him, Tarrant?"

As Avon shot a murderous look at the pilot, Tarrant swallowed hard and said uncomfortably, "He received a nasty beating. I think he's going to recover, though."

"He'd better," said Avon.

Dayna shook Vila's shoulder. "Vila. Vila, wake up."

The thief groaned. "Please don't do that."

She stopped. "Then open your eyes."

He did. When he recognized Dayna and Avon behind her, he closed them again, saying, "Thank God you've come. You sure the hell took your time, though."

"Vila," Avon said. "Is that our Tarrant over there?"

Tarrant closed his eyes in apprehension. He had no doubt that if Vila said the wrong thing, Avon would kill him here and now. What if Vila still held the pilot responsible for the abuse he had received? It would be so easy to extract vengeance with an accusation. Tarrant waited.

Vila opened one eye. He looked from Avon to the pilot and back again. "'Fraid so. Can we go home now?"

Avon nodded. Dayna tossed one bracelet to Tarrant and clasped the other onto Vila's wrist.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Avon raised his arm and said, "Orac, teleport now!" They dissolved from sight.

The dying embers of the fire, now neglected, faded away until they were harmless and cold.

* * * * *

Back in his quarters, Vila took a healthy swallow of the Soma he'd just poured himself, then set it on the table. He felt grubby and stiff, though the worst of the pain was gone now, thanks to Soolin's ministrations in the med room of Xenon Base. Sorting out his emotions about what had happened might take a little longer, though. But then again, he had suffered much worse in his past — he'd been rather young when he had first been incarcerated — and he had always managed to bounce back. It was this flexibility that had enabled him to survive in a world that was harsh and filled with human predators when he was such an obvious and easy victim. Flexibility and intelligence; he had made it a winning combination.

Well, only he and Tarrant knew about the sexual assault; he didn't think that Tarrant would ever mention it and the thief knew that he would never talk about it. It was better to just forget it. Besides, it wasn't Tarrant who had done it, he kept telling himself. The man who Vila knew had changed. The pilot had been considerate and subdued around him ever since Vila had woken up on the planet, as if Tarrant was trying to ease away some of the guilt he may have felt about the whole thing.

Vila shook his head as he thought about that irony. He too, felt guilty and ashamed about the incident. Even though he knew it wasn't his fault, he felt he should have been able to defend himself against the attack. Dayna had tried to teach him hand–to–hand combat, but he just did not have the temperament for it. And now it felt as if he had somehow failed them and failed Avon in particular. Avon was so self–assured that he was prone to despise weakness in others and Vila had demonstrated yet again just how weak he was. The thief experienced a brief shudder at the thought of the computer expert finding out about the rape. Avon was very possessive about certain things and Vila knew that he was one of them. Would the technician be scornful of Vila? Would he feel that the thief had betrayed him somehow? And what about Tarrant? Vila fretted to himself that Avon would want redress and vengeance against the pilot.

He felt his head swim at the thought of a vindictive Avon on the warpath. It was a good thing that the computer expert would never find out.

He took another couple of swallows of the Soma to wash away that thought and went into the hygiene area for a long, hot shower. When he emerged from the steamy enclosure, he felt clean and relaxed. As he toweled himself dry, he could feel the effects of the Soma; he was, to coin a phrase, comfortably numb. He got into his thick, brown bathrobe with a little awkwardness, for his neck and ribs were still tender and sore, and headed back into his bedroom. He intended to finish that drink and let his problems fade away into a healing sleep.

He was mildly surprised to find Avon in his room, standing by the table. The computer tech eyed Vila, then took a sip of the contents of Vila's glass.

"Should you be drinking Soma after taking the drugs that Soolin gave you?" he questioned flatly, setting the glass back on the table.

Vila sighed and moved a few stiff steps toward Avon. "I didn't take those pills. With the way that I'm feeling, a glass of Soma and bed are the best things for me."

Avon's eyes were dark and fathomless as he gazed down at the thief. He took a step toward Vila saying, "And how are you feeling?"

"Better," he admitted truthfully. "Just a little stiff and sore now. Mostly tired and grateful to be back here." His weariness had left him without his usual humor.

Avon noted this and his expression deepened into concern as he considered his companion. The thief's defenses were down and he stood there, looking vulnerable and small. Suddenly, Avon had Vila in a gentle embrace, his arms carefully pressing the other man close. The thief was very fragile at the moment and he held him a little tighter, all too aware that of late, everything the technician touched seemed to shatter away. He'd feared that he would never again be able to hold the thief like this; that he would be lost to him, as Blake, then Cally had been. Of course, he had never been as intimate with those two as he had been with Vila. Vila was safe, someone he could control, someone who was predictable. He moved his hand up to guide the golden brown head to his shoulder.

Vila melted into the embrace, suddenly sure that this was what he really needed. He felt safe and protected. As he hugged the technician back, the nightmare that was the past two days started to vanish away. He shifted his head into Avon's neck and nuzzled until the larger man turned his face toward him. Their lips met and the kiss deepened, yet remained gentle and caring.

Avon finally pulled away. He could feel his lover's tiredness, and he himself was weary, too. He had not slept since before the false Tarrant had come to Xenon — his anxieties had prevented it.

Vila was staring intently back at the computer tech. "Stay with me, please," he pleaded earnestly, his hands still around Avon's waist.

A small smile toyed at Avon's mouth. It pleased him to hear the need in the thief's voice. "All right. Finish your drink and into bed."

Vila eyed the Soma. Without touching it, he shed his robe and crawled between the covers. He knew that Avon did not altogether approve of his drinking and, even if it was purely medicinal in this case, he did not want to put Avon off from the exceptional mood he was in.

Avon arched his brows with surprise and a small amount of approval. He turned to the door and secured the lock. Slowly, he darkened the lights to the level that Vila liked to sleep by. The computer expert wouldn't say that the thief was afraid of the dark — just that he wasn't at ease in pitch blackness. Back at the bedside, he stripped with business–like efficiency and draped his clothes on a chair by the wall. He lifted the covers and slipped into the bed, aware of Vila scooting back to make room for him. When he had settled, Vila carefully eased himself up against Avon until he could get no closer. He sighed as Avon curled his arm around his shoulders.

But Avon could not yet relax. When he had checked with Soolin, she had assured him that Vila should make a complete physical recovery. But she, too, had heard the duplicate Tarrant brag about what he had done. The cool blonde had expressed doubt about Vila's emotional stability after such an experience. She had not known the thief for long and still believed that he was as weak as he pretended. Avon knew better, but still….

Into the semi–darkness he said, "You don't seem to have held a grudge against Tarrant." When the thief did not comment, he continued, "I know I could not be that forgiving; not after being raped."

That got a reaction. Vila jolted and half sat up. "Tarrant told you?!" he said, shocked and a little panicky.

Avon propped himself up on his elbows and watched Vila with concern. "The one who did it told me."

The thief's confusion increased. "Avon…I…I couldn't stop him. I tried…." he said, very distressed.

The suddenness and force of Vila 's reaction left Avon stunned. The thief seemed to feel guilty about the assault. "Vila!" he said sharply. The thief quieted somewhat. He gazed at Avon with mute appeal. "Vila, I know that you would not be able to fight him off," he said reassuringly. "I'm sure you did your best. It is all right."

Vila did not look completely convinced.

Avon gave an exasperated sigh, laid back down and held out his arm in invitation. He had always found that actions spoke louder than words. Still, the thief hesitated with uncertainty. "Well…?" Avon asked, his voice warm with affection and dry humor.

Reassured, Vila flung himself into the waiting arms and snuggled tight against the technician. Once again, Avon curled his arm protectively about the thief. "Thanks, Avon," the smaller man murmured.

After a moment's pause, Vila asked of the quiet shadows, "Miss me?" The question had popped out and now the thief, still on an emotional roller coaster, waited fearfully for the answer, suddenly afraid that he had pressed Avon too far. The technician was unpredictable and he did not like for any kind of demand to be made upon him.

Avon heard the timidity in his companion's voice and considered the question carefully. "About as much as a dog would miss fleas," he said. But the words were softened by the fondness in his voice and by the quick hug he gave the thief.

"That's what I figured." Then, in a drowsy voice, "Avon?"

"Yes?"

"I missed you, too."

Hearing that, Avon was totally content. The thief's emotions had finally stabilized, much to Avon's relief. He desired Vila, but that could wait until the thief felt better. For now, just his warm and relaxed presence was enough.

"Yes, I know," he finally answered. "Go to sleep, Vila." Even as he said it, he could feel the smaller man's breathing deepen and slow. It wasn't long before Avon joined him.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Previously published in Southern Lights Special, #4.5.


End file.
